The Highwayman
by mininity
Summary: On the run from the law, notorious highwayman Allen Walker seeks refuge in the town of York, where he meets Lavi Bookman, a lively baker who turns his life upside down from the first encounter. Can their relationship survive the hardships of being a highwayman? AU, Laven
1. Chapter 1

_Just a few words about this fanfic, it's set during the Georgian era, King George II is on the throne, but the currency the characters use is not that from the era - mostly because I can't work out how much things would be worth then so I stuck with simple currency of bronze, silver, and gold coins._

_I also didn't give Allen his cursed arm because it wouldn't belong in the story and Allen's scar has changed, it's no longer a pentacle just an ordinary scar, I guess. If that bothers anyone, I apologise._

_Thank you to dendodge for betaing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-Man, it belongs to Katsura Hoshino._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

York was busier than Allen would've liked as his horse, Timcanpy, trotted slowly into the town. The women who hung around outside the wooden houses eyed him suspiciously and men tipped their hats to him as he walked through the streets. Allen would have been worried about being recognised as the criminal he was but thankfully, with a makeshift eye patch covering the odd-looking scar he received from a stray bullet in a pistol fight with The Gregories down in Essex, he was barely noticeable. Another distinguishing feature was his pure white hair—it had gone white after his father had died in a tragic accident with a horse and carriage—but he kept that hidden with a dark wig.

Although the disguise didn't make him appear as though he was Allen Walker, the most notorious highwayman and well-known villain to grace the rural roads of Georgian England since Dick Turpin, it still made him look suspicious. Well, it made sense; how many people did you see going around with an eye-patch? He pulled Timcanpy up to the local stable, which was attached to a busy inn. He paid the stable hand his staying fee and watched as the young boy took his horse and tied him up carefully to the post.

He made his way inside the inn, pushing the door forward as he stepped inside, his knee-high leather boots stomping against the wooden floor. He removed his tri-corner hat in polite fashion and strolled over to where a lady was sat. She appeared to be rich, dressed in a fine dress, donning a wig that may have been laughed at in London due to its small size, but was still large enough to be recognisable as a rich woman's.

She sat up and eyed Allen shiftily as he approached. Allen was used to it; he wasn't of average height, and looked like a small child despite being 17 years old.

"Good day, madam," Allen greeted, offering the lady a fair smile. Her expression of question never changed.

"How may I help you, sir?" she asked, placing her hands on the wooden desk carefully.

"I'd like to secure a room for the time being." Allen realised how ambiguous the statement was, but he hoped, as he placed on the table a small leather bag containing several golden coins, that she wouldn't ask questions and would just take the money and allow him to stay.

However, she eyed the bag warily. She'd seen all sorts come through this town; she'd even housed that villain Dick Turpin for a short time, refusing to ask questions because he appeared so gentlemanly. "And how long is 'the time being'?" she asked, taking the bag and untying it clumsily. She grabbed a coin and lifted it up into the air before taking a bite out of it to confirm that it was real.

"A week, maybe two. Just until I receive a message from a friend of mine up in Ripon."

The woman took the gold coins and handed Allen a key. "Alright, two weeks only. After that, you're out of here."

Allen smirked and took the key with gratitude, he turned and made his way up the elegant stairs before turning back around and replying, "Two weeks is all I'll need, fair lady."

* * *

York was a pretty town. The shops were bustling with locals enjoying the casual conversation amongst butchers, blacksmiths, bakers, the lot. It was certainly a colourful cast of characters, Allen mused as he continued to stroll along the streets of York. He turned the corner and was met with a half-empty road and the smell of freshly-baked bread wafting through the thick air.

Allen was reminded that he hadn't eaten in days as his stomach growled in response to the delicious scent. He followed his stomach and wound up in front of a small bakery. Without a second thought, he dived in, clutching onto several leather bags tied to his belt, each one containing coins he'd stolen from wealthy people on his raids as a highwayman. From some of them, he would take jewels but leave them with money, while from others he would take the whole lot; it depended on how Allen was feeling that day.

He hadn't always wanted to be a highwayman; in fact, when he was younger, he was appalled by the idea of robbing innocent people in dark woody roads. But when he was 13, he was taught to pickpocket by his guardian, a close friend of his late father's called Cross Marian. He used his height and innocent appearance to his advantage by nicking valuables out of men's pockets and giving them to his master, who in turn would pawn them off for money that he used on whores and alcohol.

As he grew older, he excelled at pickpocketing, and at the age of 15 he was approached by a gang that he was well aware of. He was aware that they were the Essex gang; he knew of them because of the famous highwayman associated with them. They'd asked him to join their gang, claiming that they needed his skills. He had accepted at first, not wanting trouble, but when a robbery went too far and led to the death of an old man in the town, the Gregories blamed Allen and drew their Flintlock pistols in order to execute the young boy.

Fortunately for Allen, one of the things the Gregories had taught him was how to use a pistol. He drew his own and shot the tree behind the leader. In shock, the leader fired his own gun, the bullet slicing across Allen's cheek, leaving a noticeable scar when it had healed over months later. It was after this that he ran off with Cross's horse, Timcanpy, and began his life as a villain of the highway.

The baker behind the wooden counter was a young man. His red hair stuck out underneath the cap he was wearing. As he turned to face Allen, Allen could see that he too was wearing an eye-patch—surely for a different reason from the white haired boy, but it was there none the less. The eye that wasn't covered was a dazzling emerald green, and it drew Allen in without him being aware.

"Hello!" The baker greeted, wiping his floured hands down on his dirty apron.

"Hi," Allen replied, not moving from the spot he seemed to be stuck in. "I'd like a loaf of bread please."

The baker nodded with understanding as he disappeared behind a door and returned with a small loaf. "Sorry, it's all we have; we're not very rich so we can only do with what we've got. You're our first customer in weeks!"

Allen felt awful for the man as he pulled out another small bag of coins. He handed the whole lot to the redhead and gave him a smile. "Take everything; I'm not in any need of it."

The boy gazed at the small leather pouch. He pulled on the string tied around the bag and emptied out the contents. A hundred gold coins clinked together as they hit the surface. The boy's one green eye widened in surprise. "Gosh! You're not as suspicious as people say you are!"

Allen stopped. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, when you came into town, everyone assumed you were bad news, what with the eye patch, the hat, the black clothing. We all thought you were going end up like that other fellow about ten years ago… David something…"

"Dick Turpin," Allen corrected.

"Yeah! Him! Turns out, you're a lot kinder. Thank you so much. What's your name?" the boy asked as he scraped the money off the counter and put it back into the bag.

Allen thought it unwise to give the stranger his full name, since it was probably known throughout the country. "Samuel Jones," he responded, gripping the bread tightly.

"Nice to meet you, Sam, I'm Lavi Bookman, but everyone calls me Junior."

"Why's that?"

"Well because I'm taking after my grandfather's footsteps into becoming a baker, I guess." Lavi shrugged his shoulders and turned back to kneading bread dough. "Thanks for the money, Sam, I really appreciate it."

"Thank you for the bread, Lavi," Allen responded, leaving the shop feeling lighter than when he had entered. Lavi seemed like a nice guy. _His grin was certainly charming_, Allen thought, nibbling on the bread as he made his way around the town. He took in the sights: the rolling hills, the wooded areas, and the bright blue skies. He found himself on a bridge, looking over a river; he followed the trail with his uncovered eye and found that the river led out to an open wooded area; and it was there, on the stone bridge of York, that Allen Walker planned his escape towards Ripon if things got out of hand.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, story alerted, and favourited!_

_Thank you to dendodge for betaing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-Man, it belongs to Katsura Hoshino._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Allen saw Lavi every day of the following week. However, he had given up his habit of giving a bag of gold coins to everyone he felt sympathy for, and instead paid the proper price of two silver coins. Lavi took the money with gratitude and offered Allen a large grin that could light up a dark and dreary room.

"So, Sam, how long are you in York for?" Lavi asked randomly as he was baking fresh bread for Allen. Allen had gotten used to his alias over the few days since he'd created it.

"Not too long; I should be leaving by the end of next week." Allen felt his chest tighten at the idea. He'd gotten used to the friendliness of the townsfolk, especially Lavi, and leaving them behind for his own sanctuary wasn't something he was fond of.

"Oh," Lavi replied, his eye looking down dejectedly. He'd grown to like Allen, despite not knowing who he truly was. "Have you heard the latest story?" Lavi started the conversation up again by changing the topic.

"No?" This caught Allen's attention. He loved town gossip.

"They say they've seen that highwayman around in Yorkshire. Allen Walker…"

Allen gulped, suddenly feeling faint and sick. "O-oh…"

"Yeah, it's got everyone in a panic. Watch your riches, Sam; he'll probably take them while you're not looking."

Allen instinctively clutched onto his remaining bags of money and sighed. "You're right, Lavi, those highwaymen are dangerous… Don't get yourself caught up in them…"

Lavi noticed Allen's change of tone and turned to grab his hands, his one emerald eye boring into Allen's lone grey one. "What happened, Sam? Did you get robbed?"

Allen shook his head, refusing to explain as he took his hands from Lavi's warm grip. "It's nothing. I guess I'm just sad about leaving this town… And you."

Lavi grinned. "I have that effect on people."

Over the time Allen had spent with Lavi, he'd also discovered that Lavi's trademark grin was incredibly contagious, and he cursed himself as he felt himself smile back at the redhead.

"Say… Have you seen Knavesmire?" Lavi asked as he brought Allen his bread.

"Knavesmire?" Allen echoed. The name sounded familiar as it rolled off his tongue. He picked the white fluffy food apart, popped a small part into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully.

"Yes, it's where Dick Turpin was hanged ten years ago. Nearly everyone who stops by here comes to see Knavesmire. It's supposed to a romantic idea or something. The place where the villain Dick Turpin was stopped."

Allen gulped, almost choking on the piece of bread he was chewing. Surely it was bad karma for one highwayman to see the place of execution for another… But Lavi had offered, and Allen would be damned to refuse a chance to spend more time with the eccentric redhead. "Sure," he replied after a moment of thought. "Why not?"

* * *

It was a chilly evening as Lavi and Allen strolled through the busy part of town to the gallows. Another young couple was hanging around the place; they whispered to each other and gasped when they saw Lavi and Allen walk up to them.

"Evening, Lavi," the girl greeted, smiling timidly. Her curly dark hair framed her face and, it appeared to Allen, she was wearing incredibly thick eyeliner. Lavi waved to her and the fellow she was stood with, who was dressed in a pure black outfit that Allen had to squint to fully comprehend in the setting sunlight, waved as well. His hair was also black, with a white streak of what appeared to be premature grey hair, not that Allen could judge as he tugged at the dark wig covering his own white hair anxiously.

The couple stepped back from the gallows and made their way out of the area, their bodies in close proximity but not close enough to be considered intimate. Lavi stepped away from Allen and waltzed over to the gallows before doing a big sweeping action with his arms and pointing to the large, ominous, wooden structure with a "Ta-da!"

Allen stepped forward, his elongated shadow reaching over to the noose and giving him a dark and depressing feeling. He pulled on the jacket he wore at the shoulders and shivered in the cold breeze that blew through Knavesmire. Lavi looked at him with sympathy, stripped his worn out cloak from his own shoulders and, without warning, draped it across Allen's.

"You didn't…"

"You looked cold," Lavi said simply, shrugging his shoulders. The two shared a look for a few minutes before Lavi turned to the gallows, a large grin across his features. "Isn't it impressive?"

Allen, who had been trying to avoid all viewing of the gallows, looked up and gulped loudly. The scarf around his neck was suddenly too tight, and his heart thudded in his ears—louder, louder, so loud that he didn't hear Lavi ask him a question. He shook his head and turned to face him. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I asked, how old are you, Sam?"

Allen inhaled deeply and sighed. "Seventeen."

"Sevent-…I'd have thought you'd be twelve."

"Twelve!?" Allen exclaimed, insulted. "I can assure you, _sir_, that I am not twelve!"

Lavi, amused at Allen's reaction, gave the younger man a light-hearted smile as he put an arm around him comfortably, pulling the smaller of the two closer. "Relax, I was teasing."

"Regardless, how old are _you_, Lavi?"

"Twenty," he replied, pride written on his handsome face. Allen scoffed and pulled Lavi's cloak over his shoulder, holding it together with his left hand. The silence in the air was thick and uncomfortable, the sun finally setting as the sky was painted navy. The temperature suddenly became much colder, and Allen was suddenly aware of how close Lavi was to him.

"Sorry if this appears to be overstepping the line," Lavi began, pulling his arm away suddenly, causing Allen to involuntarily move in closer to maintain the contact, "But how did you get the eye-patch?" As he asked, Lavi touched his own gently, as if in a gesture of sympathy.

The highwayman looked down at his booted feet, admiring the shine on the blackened leather. He looked up again to see that Lavi was watching him with patience. "I don't…"

"It's okay, I'll show you mine first if it'll make you feel better," Lavi suggested, raising his arms and untying the string that held his own eye-patch to his face.

"No, Lavi, don-"

However, Allen's words were in vain as Lavi removed his eye-patch and looked up at Allen, a small smile on his face. Allen gasped quietly, moving in closer to inspect the wound. He heard Lavi's breathing hitch at the closeness of the two of them. Lavi's eye-lid had healed over completely; the scarred tissue appeared jagged, as if it had been cut with a blunt knife, and the scars networked outward from the inner corner of his eye.

"Oh, Lavi," Allen whispered as he reached out to touch it before he caught himself, pulled his hand back, and stepped away. "I don't know if I can…" His voice had become as low as a whisper, his one visible eye dropping to the ground. Lavi replaced his eye-patch quickly and deftly without any mistakes, then took Allen's cheek in his hand and rubbed his thumb over the flesh. Allen's skin was soft under his touch; the creamy colour glowed in the moonlight, mesmerising Lavi.

Allen sighed deeply and removed his own eye-patch, lowering his head to prevent Lavi from seeing the scar that would, without a shadow of a doubt, reveal his true identity. What would Lavi do? Run and get an official? Call him out and have him arrested? The outlook seemed bleak but a small smile broke out on his face when he realised Lavi was bending down to see what he was hiding.

"Lavi… I'm sorry," he said finally and raised his head. The unmistakable bullet scar under his eye caught Lavi's attention within seconds and a loud, shocked gasp escaped his lips. He took a few steps away from Allen and raised his hand to his mouth.

"Sam… Who… Who are you, really?"

Allen could feel the tears well up in his eyes as he removed the dark wig hiding his signature hair. The white locks fell to his shoulders like a shimmering silver waterfall. "I'm sure you know by now. I'm Allen Walker, the highwayman who everyone is looking for."

Lavi was saying nothing, hurt about the betrayal written on his face; his knees felt weak, his stomach felt sick. It was wrong. Allen was a criminal, a villain, a sinner. And to think he was beginning to—well, none of that mattered now, he was hurt and broken.

"Lavi, please believe me when I say I'm sorry for lying to you."

Lavi didn't say anything; he shook his head and ran from Knavesmire, ignoring the fact he left his cloak behind. Allen watched with sorrow and clutched his wig and eye-patch as Lavi ran away from him, his worst fears confirmed.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, story alerted, and favourited!_

_Thank you to dendodge for betaing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-Man, it belongs to Katsura Hoshino._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 3

Lavi had found it hard to sleep that night, his head still swarming with the information he'd received. Sam – or the person whom he thought to be Sam – was actually Allen Walker, the most wanted criminal in Essex and Yorkshire – hell, maybe even the whole of England for all Lavi knew. But what _did_ Lavi know? He'd never stepped out of York to even see the outside world… Maybe that's what attracted him to Allen; he was a stranger with a hidden past–

It wasn't so hidden any more, however. Lavi groaned and rolled over on his rock-hard bed, the draught from the too-small window freezing him all over as he tossed and turned in the thin sheets. He was torn inside; Allen had trusted him with his secret and what had Lavi done but run away?

Coward.

But, Lavi countered internally, was he a coward? He ran away from a criminal, a dangerous person. If anything, that made him sensible. Yet, Allen had only become a criminal when he was no longer Sam; inside, he was still the same person, still his friend.

Lavi flopped onto his back once more and squeezed his eye shut, willing himself to sleep. Everything, he believed, would be clearer in the morning.

* * *

The next morning was Lavi's day off, and his grandfather had all but shoved him out of the back door, handed him what little money they could spend on necessities, and told him to fetch some fresh-cut beef from the butchers. With a grumble and a protest, Lavi still made his way through town, not that he wanted to be there. He'd hoped he could stay indoors – being in public meant he would run into Sa–Allen, and that was something he couldn't really handle.

The butchers wasn't busy despite the two women stood outside; one he knew to be the butcher's wife and the other was the inn keeper at the local inn, the two were chatting animatedly and ignored Lavi as he walked inside, despite his tip of the head to acknowledge the ladies presences. _Always the gentleman_.

"Mornin' Lavi," the butcher greeted, a wide grin on his face. "Let me guess, chuck and blade for the ol' man."

Lavi nodded slowly, his ears taking to the conversation outdoors. The Reverend had seemed to join the conversation and things were suddenly very interesting to the redhead.

"Good morning, Helen," the Reverend greeted the inn keeper before he acknowledged the butcher's wife with a simple "Bess."

"Mornin' Reverend, Bess and I were just talking about my new guest."

"Ah, yes, the strange young man with the eye-patch, how very peculiar."

"Helen said that he was leaving tonight, no talk of where he's going or who he's seeing. He's a strange one, that kid."

"Who lets a young boy of thirteen like him run around like he does? He owns the horse. He gave it a name. Timcampony or somethin' like that," Helen added, sounding more flustered by the minute.

"Calm down, Helen," the Reverend said calmly, resting his hand on her shoulder. "If he's leaving tonight, he won't be our problem."

"But he seems like such a sweet boy," Helen pleaded. The Reverend appeared to be having none of it.

"He's not our problem. He's not our problem."

Lavi tuned out the rest of the conversation as he collected his meat and made his way to the door. He was still angry at Allen for lying, but after hearing that the boy was leaving town tonight, possibly because of him, his chest tightened in an uncomfortable way.

He remembered when he was ten and the 7th of April rolled around, Dick Turpin taking his stance at the gallows, not a single trace of remorse on his face. Everyone had romanticised the lifestyle of the highwayman, and Lavi had found it intriguing. When he was eleven he made a pretend pistol out of a couple of sticks and some string. He had tied his old black stocking around his face and pretended to hold up people, using the signature catchphrase.

"_Stand and deliver! Your money or your life!_"

The townspeople gave him a warm smile and a small snack before continuing with their day.

However, two weeks later, the pretending game went a little too far. A small gang of youths found Lavi playing with his gun and holding up the tailor's dog before giggling and playing with the animal. They taunted the boy, teased him. The redheaded child paid no attention and continued playing with the small dog, until they asked Lavi if he wanted to be a real highwayman. Lavi, being the naive child he was, agreed and followed the youths into the woods just outside the town.

There was where they attacked. With their blunt and jagged knife, they gouged out his eye as he kicked and screamed, his makeshift bandana only muffling his cries for help. Once done, they left the boy in the woods, laughing as they headed in the opposite direction from York. Struggling with only one eye, Lavi made his way home, sobbing and shaking in pain. His mother, who was still alive at the time, consoled the boy as the doctor did his best to clean and fix the wound. He handed the boy an eye-patch and said that instead of being a highwayman, he could become a pirate instead.

Lavi, to this day, had been scared of the idea of highwaymen. But the idea of Allen being a highwayman didn't scare him; in fact, it intrigued him more than it should have. Tired of living the same life day-in and day-out, sheltering under his grandfather's small but grand shadow, and being a mediocre baker, he decided that now was the time for something new, something exciting. Something different.

He rushed back home, forgetting the rest of the groceries he should've obtained, and threw the cut of beef at his grandfather, who yelled at him for being ignorant and lazy. On his bed, looking out of the window, Lavi hatched a plan – a plan that, if he were caught, would kill him. Yet, if he succeeded, he would be out his dreary daily life and into a new adventure. With Allen. It wasn't until Allen's presence in his mind that Lavi became truly excited about his plan.

* * *

The sun set a little while later as Allen donned his usual attire: white shirt, black trousers, black boots, black hat, black jacket, and of course, a black cloak. He looked at Lavi's cloak with remorse; maybe he'd be able to return it on the way out, but after his reaction, Allen was sure the redhead wouldn't want to see him ever again. He tipped his tri-corner hat into the dirty mirror as he strolled out of the room, locking it and placing the key on the deserted desk in the lobby. He walked out and took his horse from the young man in the stable. Timcanpy certainly seemed appreciative to be out of the stuffy stable. He climbed onto the golden horse's back and kicked him ever so gently in the sides. The horse reared up, then galloped through the streets of York and out through the trail of the Ouse, unaware of the other horse behind him.

It was a few miles up to the closed wooded area where Allen would make camp and ride on the next day until he reached Ripon. Still following the Ouse, he came to a stop a few feet from the foot of the woodland. He got off of the horse, which then seemed to do its own thing by nibbling on the grass beside an alder tree. Allen set up base in the bank beside the river, embracing the cool breeze that flowed through the trees and hugged his small body. Once he'd finished stretching, his ears picked up the sound of a second set of hooves against the ground.

He'd been followed!

It was probably an official or one of the local Earl's men coming to capture him and take him and execute him and _augh_! Allen couldn't let himself die, not just yet. He wanted to see Lavi one more time. In a speedy panic, he tied Tim to a tree, and the horse let out an unpleasant sound. Allen shushed and pleaded with the horse before ducking in the bank once the sound of the hooves grew louder and closer; Allen was sure the man one the horse could hear his thundering heartbeat.

The sound stopped and Allen gulped. The person disembarked his horse with a low grunt and walked around, as if searching for something.

He knew it. He was going to die.

Well, like hell he was going to die without a fight. Cocking his Flintlock, he crept out of the bank, put one arm around the offender's neck, and placed the gun against his temple.

"Speak. Who are you?"

"A-Allen?" The figure choked.

Allen knew that voice. "Lavi?" He questioned in disbelief. He released the man at once, uncocking his pistol and putting it out of reach. "Lavi, what are you doing here?" He asked, a little more sternly, despite the fact he was more relieved than angry.

"I'm sorry Allen. I shouldn't have followed you… But Helen said you were leaving – Helen, the innkeeper," Lavi said when he saw Allen's confused look. "And I didn't want to not see you again and I wondered what it would be like to be a true highwayman so… I stole the Millennium Earl's horse and followed you here."

"Lavi…"

The redhead began to smile, as if the snow-haired man had forgiven him. "Allen," he replied with warmth.

"You absolute imbecile!" Allen yelled. "You _stole_ a _horse_? An _Earl's_ horse? If you had got caught, you'd be a dead man walking! How could you be so stupid!?"

"Again, I'm sorry."

Allen groaned and rubbed his temples with the palm of his hand. He couldn't send Lavi back, not to his death – that would plague his mind for the rest of his living days.

"You do realise that if you hadn't spoken, I would've killed you."

Lavi didn't reply; he merely looked at Allen's pistol and then down to the ground in shame. "I'm sorry. I can't go back there, not now. I raised an alarm. There'll be a bounty on my head by tomorrow, I just know it. Let me join you, please?"

Allen knew fully well he couldn't send him back as he sat on a log and sighed. "Fine. But you must know, the life of a highwayman isn't what it sounds like. It's dangerous and it's rough. It also gets lonely, but not many highwayman travel in packs nowadays; not since the Gregories were hanged." He moved to the saddle bag on Tim and produced a hock of ham and a small loaf of bread. "Hungry?"

Lavi shook his head fervently before his stomach betrayed him and let out a small growl of hunger. Allen smirked and gave the redhead half of everything. The two sat on the log and ate in peace.

"Lavi," Allen began, breaking the silence.

"Mmm?" Lavi replied, mouth full of ham and bred.

"I'm sorry for lying to you about who I was."

Lavi swallow with a loud gulp and patted Allen on the back. "What else could you have done? No hard feelings."

Allen let out a large smile of relief and finished his meal before sitting on the grass, leaning against the log, and closing his eyes. Lavi smiled and watched Allen's sleeping face, and went to pull out his cloak before realising he'd left it with Allen. Sneakily, he checked Allen's saddle bag and sure enough, he pulled out his old, worn out, patched-up cloak and draped it over the two of them as he settled beside the smaller male.

His last thought before he drifted off was how pretty the stars were in the woods.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, story alerted, and favourited!_

_Thank you to dendodge for betaing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-Man, it belongs to Katsura Hoshino._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Dawn had broken by the time Allen and Lavi began cantering through the woodland. Allen had told the novice to stay away from the dirt path in a wooded area because that was where noblemen and officials would be. To be a successful highwayman, Allen informed him, you must remain in secret and only come forward when you know you won't land in trouble.

Lavi, the words playing through his mind, was riding ahead of Allen on the strange horse. He didn't know what the Earl did to his horses, but the creature seemed impeccably docile despite being ridden by a stranger. He pulled on the reins of the horse and turned it around to face Allen, who came to a halt on his own horse.

"I bet I can jump over that log with this horse," Lavi said with a grin.

Allen raised an eyebrow in distaste. "Lavi, we're highwaymen, not show jumpers. If you fool around, you'll get us caught."

"It's a log that's a few metres away." He pointed at the dead silver birch lying on the ground, almost forgotten. Its silver bark glittered in the straying sunlight beams, and Allen sighed.

"One jump."

Lavi grinned once more, this grin larger than the previous. He had wanted the chance to impress the highwayman. After all, he was sure of his feelings towards the younger teen. He was definitely attracted to him; his face was unusually cute for a highwayman – at least, in Lavi's opinion – and when the young man smiled genuinely (which was rare, Lavi noted), it seemed like the whole world lit up. He was a good person, Lavi knew, despite the terrible acts he committed. The way the wanted posters made Allen look was nothing like how he truly was – he was a young, lonely, betrayed boy with a big heart, and kindness that filled Lavi's heart with warmth.

As he reared the horse up for the jump, Allen watched the redhead attentively. There was something about him that the boy couldn't place. His grin was mesmerising and he made Allen feel warm inside. He'd never really had a companion before; the only men he trusted had betrayed him and tried to kill him, but this time, Allen was sure Lavi wouldn't do that. There was something in his eye that made Allen sure that he was safe when Lavi was around.

Maybe Allen was just finally glad to have a friend he could trust. Or maybe, he just saw Lavi as the brother he never got the chance to have.

Lavi trotted back from the jump, a pleased expression written upon his handsome face. "Did you see that?"

_Oh, darn_. Whilst lost in thought, Allen had missed the jump. Not wanting to disappoint the redhead, he plastered on a fake smile and nodded enthusiastically. "Very impressive, Lavi."

He trotted forward, missing the glowing beam on Lavi's face as he followed suit.

The sound of several hooves against the dirt forced Allen to stop as he looked out over the vegetation. A large, wooden carriage, painted gold, sped past – clearly a carriage of nobility. Allen felt the money in the carriage weigh down on his belt as he turned to Lavi.

"Stay here and stay quiet."

Before Lavi could ask why, Allen took his hat off and pulled the dark wig, covering his silver hair, away from his head, followed by the black eye patch. He threw the disguise at Lavi, who caught it with precise skill as Allen replaced the hat on his head, tipping the front corner with a grin directed at Lavi, and rode off towards the carriage with professional style.

It wasn't long before Allen was in front of the carriage and pulled out onto the dirt path, obstructing the large vehicle. The driver pulled the reins of the two horses pulling the carriage in surprise, and looked on in horror as Allen moved Timcanpy forward, slowly and menacingly.

The occupant of the carriage stepped out in fury. "What the blast do you think y– _oh_." The nobleman, Baron Tyki Mikk of Huddersfield, gave Allen an interested look. Allen trotted forward, his trusted pistol cocked and aimed at the Baron's head; however, the man seemed to be cool in the face of danger. "You're the infamous Allen Walker, aren't you?"

Not one for chatter, Allen stopped and narrowed his eyes. "Hand over the money."

"Oh, that's lame. I thought you highwaymen were all '_stand and deliver!_'?"

Allen rolled his eyes. "That's so passé. Why does everyone think we're all Dick Turpin? Hell, I'm damn sure Turpin never said that to begin with. Regardless!" Allen stopped himself from ranting any further and let his index finger hover over the trigger as a warning. "Hand over the money and I won't kill you."

"That's it!" Tyki clicked his fingers. "That's it! '_Stand and de__liver! Your money or your life!_'!"

"Let's not go into this again, Baron. Just give me the money and I'll let you go with your life."

"Hmm, you drive a hard deal, Walker, but I'll have to say… No."

Allen almost dropped the Flintlock in surprise. "N-no?"

"Yes, _no_."

Allen trotted a little closer to the man and held the gun directly into his face, point blank; there was no way he could miss at that range. "The money. Now."

"The answer is still no. Nevertheless, I didn't realise how cute you were." Tyki pushed the gun from his face, his expression never changing as he placed a hand on Allen's leg. He ran his hand up and down in a slow, suggestive movement. Allen had frozen in place. Just _what_ was Tyki playing at? "You're definitely someone I can have fun with. But, alas, you are a wanted criminal in these parts; oh, but you knew that already, didn't you? I could turn you in…" Tyki's grasp on Allen's leg tightened as the younger boy struggled to free himself. "But not until after I've had my way with you."

Tyki's grasp turned into a pulling motion as Allen felt himself being removed from the horse. Time slowed and Allen panicked. The gun fired and Tyki stepped back in shock, his white shirt going red from the blood seeping through his wound. He was a dead man. That was for sure. He made a small jerk and tried to move towards his carriage, but it was too late. He coughed blood before kneeling to the ground and lying still.

The driver, having seen this, screamed in shock and climbed off the carriage and onto a horse, freeing it in a terrified flurry. Allen watched from the corner of his eye as the man began to ride in the opposite direction to where he came, no doubt toward York. Allen raised his gun before he could stop himself and, with two pulls of the trigger, the man was slumped over the horse, dead. The horse jerked without anyone to control it and ran into the wood and out of Allen's blurred sight.

Allen gasped as he looked down at his smoking pistol, struck by what he'd just done. He'd killed a man. He'd killed an innocent man. Lavi, from the shadows, raced towards Allen and grabbed his wrist.

"Allen? Allen, can you hear me?"

Allen made no movement. His mouth formed words but no voice came from his lips.

"Allen, it's me, Lavi."

"Lavi," Allen whispered, looking up. His grey eyes were wide with shock, and his skin was paler than usual. He was trembling, Lavi could feel it in his grasp.

"It's me. Come on, you're safe now. Let's go." Lavi pulled on Timcanpy's reins, the horse unaware of his surroundings, and trotted forward confidently. Allen clutched onto the golden horse's reins in alarm as Lavi climbed off his own horse and gathered the riches Tyki had in his carriage. Golden coins and the finest jewellery, littered with sapphires, rubies, and emeralds. What took Lavi's fancy was a small gold ring resting on the seat; it had a pale blue stone which shone a milky white in the sunlight. Reminded instantly of Allen's eyes, Lavi pocketed the ring and left the carriage bare. He moved to Tyki's body and kicked the dead man with disgust before riding off and following Allen.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, story alerted, and favourited!_

_Thank you to dendodge for betaing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-Man, it belongs to Katsura Hoshino._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 5

Lavi cantered the horses together, Tim's reigns tied to his horse's own, and sighed in the heavy silence. Allen was still clutching onto Tim's reigns for safety, and kept whispering something in his shocked state. Lavi couldn't fully make out what he was saying, but he recognised some of the phrases: "Not my fault," "It was an accident," "I didn't mean to."

Allen had clearly been through something horrific to have this kind of reaction to a simple killing. Surely, as a highwayman, he'd killed many men. Lavi stopped at this thought. No, Allen wasn't like that; he was kind, and he was caring. He wouldn't kill in cold blood. He had to be provoked… like he had been with Tyki.

Lavi looked around at the green scenery, ash trees spread between box shrubs and flowers not familiar to the redhead. The birds called a song as the two walked in peace towards Ripon. The familiar sound of hooves beating against the dirt reminded Lavi of the day he and Allen spent with Timcanpy in the field just outside York.

At that point, Allen was still Sam to Lavi, and as he watched the shorter of the two ride his horse majestically and professionally, Lavi began to notice things about the boy. His one visible eye turned a light blue in the sunlight, and crinkled as he smiled. The smile itself was the thing Lavi had fallen in love with first — it was the first time Lavi had seen any kind of joyful emotion on Allen's tired and worn out face. The dark curls of his wig blew across his face, delicately brushing against his cream-coloured skin, a stark contrast that left Lavi speechless.

"Lavi! Want a ride?"

How could he say no? He loved horses and, as he climbed onto Tim's back, a feeling of security washed over and he gripped the reigns tightly. Allen gave the horse a slight tap on the thigh and Tim was off, galloping freely. Lavi, for the first time in twenty years, felt completely alive and free.

Lavi allowed the wind to blow through his hair as a strong breeze echoed through the woods, and he turned to look at Allen, who seemed to be looking better. His complexion wasn't as pale as before. Lavi stopped the horses and Allen snapped out of the daze he was trapped in.

"Why did you stop?" Allen asked, curiously.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay," Lavi replied, scratching the back of his head.

Allen looked off to the side, not answering directly. "I've only ever killed one man before."

Lavi stopped and stared at the highwayman. What? "What?" He repeated externally.

"It was an accident. I was fifteen and helping this local gang back home and it got out of hand and I stabbed him and I'm sorry," Allen explained, tears rolling down his pale cheeks. Lavi's heart went out instantly to the young boy.

"Oh, Allen. Tyki's death was an accident."

"His driver's wasn't," Allen countered, wiping his tears with the back of his jacket sleeve.

"You were in a panicked state. Who knows what Tyki would've done to you if he'd gotten you off the horse? You protected yourself, which is what men do."

"To protect… myself?"

"Yes, everyone does things in the heat of the moment, whether it be panic or anger—"

"Like… running away?" Allen asked, his tone ambiguous to Lavi.

Lavi stopped talking and closed his mouth shut with a snap. After a few moments, he replied. "Yes, like running away… Allen, I'm sorry I did tha—"

"I'm not hurt, Lavi. I'm not as weak as you seem to think."

"I don't think you're weak…"

Allen felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "It doesn't matter that you ran away Lavi… Because in the end, you came back."

The two shared a warm smile for the longest of seconds before Allen fixed his attention back on Tim, untied the reigns, and cantered off towards Ripon, his chest twinging painfully—probably, guessed Allen, due to anxiety.

* * *

An hour later, Allen and Lavi arrived in Ripon. The highwayman's mood had improved significantly, and he donned his disguise once more—it would be poor to make it all the way to Ripon and get caught at the last minute due to something as stupid as forgetting your disguise.

Lavi looked around the small town, watching the people who observed him and Allen with a suspicious air. The houses were a lot smaller in Ripon than they were in York, but Lavi managed to make out a tavern at the end of the road. The tavern was definitely a historical building—the black and white wooden structures on the building made it look 200 years old.

Allen had stopped outside a smaller house — smaller than the average house in Ripon — and climbed off his horse with a regal air. He brushed the dark hair out of his face and looked over his shoulder to Lavi, who began to climb off his own horse as well, following Allen.

The highwayman knocked on the door three times with his knuckles. There appeared to be a scuffle on the inside before the dark wooden door opened slowly.

"Yes?" The occupant answered, looking out suspiciously. Allen gave the figure inside a smile of grandeur.

"Message for Miss Lee," he said, a teasing tone in his voice. Lavi scowled; Allen was never like that with him. Just who was the figure inside?

"Allen?" The figure now - as they stepped into the shadow - appeared to be a young woman with a large smile taking over her graceful features. Her long, dark hair was tied back into a braid, clearly not aware of Georgian fashion — or maybe the whole large wig thing was a city deal… Lavi passed the subject off as the woman leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Allen, embracing him tightly. Not one to get jealous easily, Lavi ignored what was going on around him as the stranger loosened her hold on the young man.

Allen sighed deeply, feeling better after seeing his childhood friend after so long; she had clearly become more beautiful in the four years they'd been apart.

"Who's this?" the girl asked curiously, looking at Lavi with a weary expression.

Lavi, always the gentleman, leaned forward, captured the lady's hand in his, and placed a delicate kiss on the back. "Lovely to meet you, my lady. I'm Lavi Bookman—"

"He's a friend from York," Allen interjected, scowling at Lavi's actions. He couldn't place his feelings; it was definitely jealousy of some kind, but the feeling evaporated when Lavi placed a friendly hand on Allen's shoulder and gave him a heartfelt smile.

"Nice to meet you, Lavi. I'm Lenalee Lee, an old friend of this here highwayman."

"Lenalee, do keep your voice down. People can hear you," Allen hissed.

Lenalee let out a small giggle as she moved aside to allow comfortable entry for her old friend and his companion. "Do come in. I have tea, and you look incredibly tired."

Allen gave Lavi a friendly look before ducking into the house for sanctuary. Lavi followed moments later, nodding towards the young lady graciously.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, story alerted, and favourited!_

_Thank you to dendodge for betaing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-Man, it belongs to Katsura Hoshino._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 6

The steam from the trio's tea curled in the cool air as Lenalee blew on her drink gently before taking a slow sip.

"How was the trip?" she asked, starting a conversation in the awkward silence. Lavi and Allen's heads snapped up at her voice, and Allen's eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

"Huh?"

"The trip, from Essex. It took you two years to get here, so it must have been a good one."

Allen kicked his legs from the chair and leaned back, a smarmy grin on his lips. "You know the life of a highwayman, Lenalee. It's dangerous, and long."

Lenalee raised an eyebrow. "Not if you get caught it isn't."

Allen sat up straight and mumbled something under his breath. A few moments later, he reached up behind him and pulled his eye patch off, showing the girl his scar.

"Ouch, that looks painful. At least it healed well. It could've been a hell of a lot worse considering how high it is. You're lucky you didn't lose your eye."

Allen coughed uncomfortably at this. When Lenalee shot him a puzzled look, he nodded towards Lavi, who stared down at his tea, a downcast look upon his handsome features. Lenalee squinted slightly and let out a small gasp when she saw the eye patch on Lavi's face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," Lavi mumbled, clearly aware that he was the subject of the silent conversation. Lenalee and Allen shared a sheepish look before the girl slammed her hands on the wooden table.

"Right, don't think you two are going to be staying here for free. I need errands done, and lucky me for having two handsome men who are capable enough to do these menial tasks for me."

Allen groaned. "Lenalee…"

"No, I don't want to hear it, Allen. In the woods you may be Allen Walker, highwayman, but in my kitchen—"

"You brother's kitchen," Allen interjected.

"—you are Allen Walker, childhood friend."

Allen sighed as he got up from the table. "Speaking of your brother, where is he?"

Lenalee sighed. "He left a year ago to join the Navy."

Allen formed an 'o' with his mouth in understanding. "The Navy, huh? Never thought of him as a sea person."

"Neither did he, but we were staying in Scarborough and they were recruiting, and they forced him to join. He gave me what little we had and told me to go back home, stay there, and do what I can to get by."

Allen said nothing. He'd heard horror stories about men being forced to join the navy without any input, and how a grand majority had died. Allen prayed that Komui was not amongst the men he'd heard about.

"Anyway, Allen, I need you to stop by Mother's to pick up some herbs I need for medicine. Lavi, you can join me in the garden and help me gather ingredients for tonight's supper."

Lavi stood up quickly and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Lenalee giggled as she handed Allen his eye patch and made her way to the front door to open it for the young man.

"Herbs from mother, was it?" Allen asked Lenalee to make sure he'd gotten the instruction correct.

"Yes, that's it. Be careful, Allen."

Allen gave her a look as he flung Lavi's cloak on absent-mindedly and walked out of the front door. Lenalee turned to look at Lavi before smiling at the expression on his face. He'd clearly been caught unaware by the fact that Allen picked his cloak up, and now had an honest smile on his face.

"Come on, Lavi, to the garden."

Lavi followed the young lady into the garden before she turned around suddenly, placing her hand on his chest.

"Just one question."

"Which is?" Lavi inquired.

"Do you like Allen?"

Lavi sucked in air through his teeth before answering honestly: "Yes. Yes, I do."

* * *

Allen strolled through the familiar streets of Ripon. He remembered coming here when he was a small child and in the care of his lazy master, Cross. Cross would always take long journeys up from Essex to Ripon to see Mother about the smallest of things.

Allen felt butterflies in his stomach at the idea of seeing Mother after leaving without a word last year. He was sure that Cross had messaged Mother asking if Allen was anywhere near her, and suddenly the simple task Lenalee had set him up with was much more daunting.

Allen made his way to the house he recognised as Mothers and knocked once, guiltily. There was a creak and the door opened almost instantly. Allen put his best smile on.

"Hello, Mother."

The elderly woman gave him a look that showed her clear disappointment. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Walker."

"Hello… Mother," Allen greeted again, his smile becoming heavy on his face.

"Come in, you good-for-nothing." Mother stepped aside and allowed Allen to enter her warm home. "You certainly look better than you did a year ago…"

Allen nodded wistfully but said nothing in reply.

"You have a glow in your cheeks," she continued, walking in front of the silver-haired teen. "Like of a young maiden who's in love."

Allen caught this instantly. "In love?"

Mother seemed to have had ignored his question, and instead disappeared into the pantry and quickly returned carrying a small leather sack, similar to the several that Allen had on his belt. "Here, this is for you."

Allen took the bag pensively and looked back at Mother. "How did you know?"

"Walker, in all the time I've known you, you only come to see me for two reasons—on Lenalee's request, or to escape capture. I'm assuming from your relaxed expression that it couldn't be the latter, so I gave you the parcel Lenalee had asked for today."

Allen thanked the elderly woman before apologising for leaving so suddenly. The woman whacked his shoulder and said it wasn't a problem, and that instead, he should be careful as he roams the woodlands.

"A lot of people are after your head, and a lot of people will play dirty tricks to get it."

Allen gulped and nodded, understanding fully. "Thanks again, Mother. I'll see you again soon." Then, without realising, he bent down to kiss the woman on the cheek. "I promise."

"Don't make empty promises with the life you lead," the woman scolded, and shooed him out of her home.

* * *

Allen returned to Lenalee's shortly, greeted by the delicious smell of beef stew cooking in the kitchen. He handed the bag to Lenalee, who thanked him graciously and disappeared into her cellar. Allen joined Lavi at the stove as the redhead stirred the delicious-smelling broth.

"It smells good," Allen said to the other man. Lavi only nodded as he concentrated on the meal before him.

Before long the three were sat with full bowls and pleased faces. As they dug into the meal, Allen took a thoughtful look at Lavi sat beside him, instantly remembering what Mother had said when she saw him.

"_You have a glow in your cheeks, like of a y__oung maiden who's in love_."

Allen's cheeks turned hot as he focused on his meal, realising what Mother had meant when she said that.

She meant that he was in love with Lavi.

And suddenly, everything Allen knew wasn't so certain anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, story alerted, and favourited!_

_Thank you to dendodge for betaing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own D Gray-Man, it belongs to Katsura Hoshino._

_Warnings: Smut._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 7**

A month passed by quickly in the company of good friends. Lavi and Lenalee became close friends — much to Allen's chagrin — but when he was alone with Lavi, he couldn't help but catch the little things he did. Lavi loved to hold onto Allen's shoulder, his touch always lingering longer than necessary. When he smiled, it genuinely seemed like Lavi's whole world was Allen, and Allen alone. But every time that had happened, Allen had written it off as a friendly gesture; after all, Lavi had helped Allen when he needed him most, and now Allen was indebted to his friend.

On this particular morning, the trio were sat around the table eating their breakfast of warm porridge, when a carriage pulled up outside the house. Lenalee got up quickly without a word and flung the door open, falling into the embracing arms of her older brother, Komui Lee. The two stood in the affectionate hug for quite some time before Lenalee broke the hold and allowed Komui to enter. She grabbed his bags and ran for his room — the room that Allen and Lavi had been lodging in together during their stay at the Lees' house.

At the sight of Allen, Komui stopped in his tracks, fury written on his face.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice holding nothing but venom. Lavi gaped at the man in shock. He was related to Lenalee? They seemed like polar opposites!

Allen, however, reacted in a different way; he pulled his eye patch and wig off and greeted the man calmly. "Morning, Komui, I'm glad to see you live and well."

"Live and well, huh? Don't ignore my question! You realise your presence around here has made my sister a walking target. If anyone had found out who you were—"

"But no-one did," Allen shot back.

"But if someone had, my sister would be dead!"

"Komui, do you honestly think that if I got caught, I'd let my friends go down with me? I'm not that kind of person."

Komui scoffed and grabbed the lapels of Allen's jacket. Lenalee let out a cry of protest when she returned from her brother's bedroom.

"Komui, let me go. I've done nothing wrong. Let me explain, please?"

Komui removed his grip on the jacket, brought his sister into a one armed hug, and listened to the boy's tale. Allen explained how he was being hunted by the remaining Gregories and had escaped to Nottingham, where he had sent an SOS to Lenalee in Ripon, who had told him to get to York, where she would send further details. It was in York that he met Lavi. At the mention of his name, all eyes turned to the mysterious redhead at the kitchen table, who wished that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"Lavi?" Komui asked, his voice rising in pitch. "You! What have you done to Lenalee? You'd better not have touched a hair on her head!"

Lavi raised his hands in surrender, wishing that this madman would leave him alone and return to fawning over his sister like before. However, before anything could happen, Lenalee grabbed the back of Komui's long coat and pulled him away.

"Brother! Don't be so rude to our guests!" she scolded, as the older man cowered like a puppy. "Besides, it's not me Lavi's interested in."

Lavi's face went red as Komui looked at Lenalee in bewilderment. The young girl smiled and nodded towards Allen, who was stood at the kitchen window, looking out dejectedly at the vegetables the Lees were fond of growing.

Komui let out a gasp of understanding and apologised to Lavi for his rude behaviour, before inviting Allen to the table to finish off what little breakfast they had. Lenalee left to grab Komui a bowl, and came back with two. Lavi watched the girl as she placed one bowl before her brother and the other beside Allen's half-empty bowl. Komui regaled the trio with his stories of the sea; he told them of how he worked under the command of a brutal leader, and horror stories of the food they had to eat, almost putting Lavi and Lenalee off of their breakfasts. Allen, however, was undeterred by the stories, and Lavi was astonished to watch as Allen devoured the two bowls with ease, and was even so daring as to ask for a third.

This was rewarded with a light slap on the head.

"Allen," Komui began the conversation once the meal was done, "How's that injury of yours?"

Allen lightly touched the eye patch he had put back on and smiled sweetly. "It healed nicely, no complications."

"Must've been painful."

Allen looked at Lavi, who was busy helping Lenalee with the dishes, before turning back to Komui. He said in a whisper, "I've had worse."

* * *

The tavern that Lavi and Allen opted to stay in for the time being, _The Black Order_, was bustling; clearly a lot of people loved to come in and out of Ripon on their journeys to and from York. The pair had been kicked out of the Lees' house once Komui reclaimed his bedroom, and Allen managed to score the two a room in the busy inn. The inn also had a stable where both Timcanpy and Lavi's horse put up residence for the night.

Lavi sat down loudly, almost slamming down his second tankard of beer onto the small wooden table. Allen was still on his first but was already feeling tipsy. He'd only had alcohol once or twice in his life, and that was due to the influence of his master. Within an hour, Allen was still nursing his first glass whilst Lavi was onto his third, still not feeling a buzz. The boy was slumped over the table, mumbling something in his exhausted and tipsy state. Lavi placed a gentle hand on Allen's back. The touch caused the highwayman to sit up straight quickly and glance at the redhead beside him.

"Lavi, I wish you wouldn't…" Allen complained.

Lavi withdrew his hand, feeling hurt. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"No, no, I'm sorry!" Allen grabbed onto Lavi's faltering hand and brought it to his face. "You just send mixed signals."

"I do?" Lavi asked, scrunching his nose in confusion. "I'm sorry if I do…"

"It's just…" Allen ran Lavi's soft fingers over his cheek. "You do things…"

Lavi found it hard to swallow. Allen could tell how Lavi felt for him? "I—"

"It makes me feel warm and… and… and fuzzy!"

"I'm—"

"But you like Lenalee…" The tone in Allen's voice changed drastically from being friendly and caring to full of sorrow and rejection.

"I don't!" Lavi protested, holding Allen's cheek and facing the one-eyed boy. "I love you."

There was a strict silence between the boys before Allen replied with a whispered "What?"

"I love you."

Allen's mouth hung open in silent thought, his brain trying to process the information in his inebriated state. Lavi immediately took the silence as rejection and excused himself from the table. Allen couldn't help but notice the hurt upon Lavi's face.

* * *

Lavi turned to face the large window in the empty bedroom. The moon served as a reminder of the void in his heart as the light shone from the milky-blue gem on the ring clasped in his hand. He felt his eye sting as tears began to form, rolling down his cheeks. He'd opened up to Allen, who had turned him down.

What did he expect? Allen was a highwayman; he lived, worked, and breathed alone.

Unfortunately, the redhead was brought out of his thoughts by a hesitant knock on the door, and Lavi felt compelled to open it, but not before placing the ring in his cloak pocket for safekeeping. Lavi wasn't expecting to see Allen hanging off the door frame. The scent of beer was faint on his breath as he stumbled into the room the two shared.

There was a moment of silence as Lavi closed the door and made his way back to his bed to sleep, before he was pulled into Allen's arms. The shorter man slammed his lips clumsily against Lavi's in his attempt at a passionate kiss. Lavi pulled himself off Allen.

"Don't. You're drunk. Don't."

"I'm not. I love you, Lavi," Allen pleaded, holding onto him. Lavi's heart swelled as he willed himself to calm down and think rationally.

"No, you don't. You're drunk."

"No, I'm not! I love you, believe me. I've loved you since I first met you, I was just… too afraid."

Lavi closed his eye and wished for everything to end. "No, Allen."

"Lavi, don't do this to me. I love you."

"Stop!" Lavi demanded, pulling his hand from Allen's grasp. "You're just trying to make up for hurting me earlier. Stop." He collapsed onto his bed and put his head in his hands, pulling at his red locks of hair.

"Lavi," Allen said, standing between the older boy's legs. "I want you."

Lavi looked up. Now, that was new. "Excuse me?"

"I want you," he repeated, his one visible eye filled with lust and desire as he bent down, wrapping his arms around Lavi's neck, and kissed him deeply. Lavi gave into temptation, wrapped his own arms around Allen's slim frame, and pulled him closer. Allen lost his balance and ended up with one knee off the edge of the bed, his whole weight against Lavi.

"Allen, if you keep this up, I won't be able to stop myself."

"Don't care. Want you."

The kissing became deeper, more passionate, as Lavi ran his tongue along the seam of Allen's lips, seeking entrance. The highwayman complied, opening his mouth as their tongues danced and they savoured each other's tastes. Their tastes, so familiar yet so foreign to each other, ignited their senses as Lavi moved his hands and began to undo the buttons on Allen's white shirt. He longed to see if the flesh under there was just as rich, just as creamy, just as smooth, as Allen's cheeks. He moved his lips and planted kisses along the underside of Allen's jaw, the latter tipping his head and letting his jaw drop open, a low moan erupting from the back of his throat. Allen's hands tangled themselves in the locks of Lavi's head, twisting the red strands between his fingers as Lavi began to kiss his neck, moving lower, kissing harder as the shirt Allen was once wearing hung off his shoulders and his torso became bare to Lavi's hungry eye.

Lavi manoeuvred himself and Allen so Allen was lying on his back against the mattress. Allen sighed as he sunk into the bed, his fingers still in Lavi's hair as the two gazed at each other in the moonlight. Then Lavi disappeared from Allen's eye sight, and he felt a warm wetness lather his nipple. Allen arched his back, groans escaping from his mouth as he lost the will to control himself. He didn't want to control himself.

This was too good.

Allen released his grip on Lavi's hair and began to undo Lavi's own shirt as he ran his hands over the smooth planes of Lavi's back. He felt muscular, and it turned Allen on more than he would like to admit. Lavi leaned back from Allen's chest to allow his new lover to take his shirt off and run his palms over his pectorals. The redhead sighed softly as Allen pressed soft kisses along his neck and collarbone.

"Lavi," he whispered in his ear as he nibbled on the older boy's lobe.

"Yeah…" Lavi exhaled before pushing Allen down onto the bed, and all but ripped Allen's breeches off him, releasing Allen's painful erection from its confines. Allen hissed as the cool air touched his skin; his nerves were on fire, and every touch Lavi laid on him left a scorching mark that Allen would never want to forget.

"Lavi… Do it," he whispered so softly that Lavi was afraid he almost misheard the boy's command.

"Yes…"

He leaned over his lover and grabbed a small bottle of oil that he found in one of the chests of drawers, and removed his own breeches. He emptied an excessive amount of the oil onto his fingers, the yellow substance dripping onto the off-white sheets below them.

Lavi took a deep breath and told Allen to relax. The man did so as Lavi inserted one oiled-up finger into his hole; after a moment, a second one joined and the redhead stretched his younger partner, the boy writhing on the bed.

"Ah, Lavi, it hurts. Ngh!" Allen arched his back as Lavi panicked. _What should I do? It's hurting Allen_… Too far gone to stop, he wrapped a hand around Allen's cock and tugged it gently, Allen's groans of pain turning into low growls of pleasure. Then Allen jerked and arched as a loud cry escaped his lips. Lavi wasn't quite sure what he did, but he moved his fingers once more and received the same reaction, the cry at a higher pitch than the one before. "La-ah-vi!"

The redhead inserted a third finger just to make sure, and moved his fingers to brush against the spot that made Allen scream his name. He found it with ease and relished the way Allen gasped out his name in pleasure.

Lavi had had enough. He wanted in and he wanted it now. He oiled his own cock up and placed it against Allen's entrance.

"Allen," he whispered. "I'm going to—"

"Yes, do it, Lavi," was his only reply as Lavi thrust into the boy, simultaneous moans released from each partner. "W-wait!"

Lavi didn't move as Allen took a deep breath and brought his hands up and around Lavi's neck.

"It's okay now."

Lavi took the all clear and all but pulled out of the boy before thrusting in at the same speed. Allen let out a cry of pleasure as that sweet spot was hit by accident. Lavi changed his angle, sure to hit it this time with precision as the two bodies rocked together, their cries mingled into a song of passion and lust, Allen's nails scraping against Lavi's skin as he cried out in pleasure, again and again.

Their climaxes neared and with one final thrust, they went over the edge together, their names on each other's lips as Lavi slumped forward into Allen's arms. Fatigue took over the two as they drifted off to sleep, happy and content with their new relationship.


End file.
